


And They Were Roommates

by the_genderman



Series: My 2018 MCU Kink Bingo Fics [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider, Roommates, Slice of Life, fluff?, see notes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/pseuds/the_genderman
Summary: College AU. Slice of life. And they were roommates. (Oh my god, they were roommates.) SamSteve from an outside POV. Kind of vaguely Avengers-ish.





	And They Were Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> There is mention of canonical character death (Bucky), even though this isn’t _exactly_ canon fic, but yeah, it’s there and it’s talked about a little bit.
> 
> They all know Steve, but except for Natasha (and Clint when he’s awake enough to remember who he’s friends with), they’re closer to acquaintances than friends. Which, I suppose, given the tone of the Avengers movies, is pretty fair.

“So. Guys. _Guys_. Get this,” Tony says, sliding into his seat at the lunch table and setting his tray down with enough momentum to make his sandwich unmake itself and slide, layer by layer, onto the tray. 

Jim surreptitiously slides his backpack a little further away from Tony’s lunch before answering his excited conversation starter. “Hey, Tony, good to see you. Didn’t think you were gonna make it to lunch today with your schedule.”

“Oh, I didn’t either,” Tony replies, putting his sandwich back together and wiping mustard on his pants leg. “But plans have changed. You have to hear this. It’s been two and a half years and _Steve has a new roommate_.”

“Steve who?” Clint mumbles around a bite of tuna salad.

“Don’t talk while you’re chewing,” Natasha says, elbowing Clint. “And you know who Steve is. Fine arts major, room 1417.”

Clint closes his mouth and blinks at her.

“You know, _art Steve_ ,” Natasha prompts. “Big guy, looks like a football player but isn’t, jogs at the ass crack of dawn, paints birds and fruit.”

Clint shakes his head.

“Sometimes also known as weird Steve,” Tony interjects.

“He’s not _weird_ , Tony, his last roommate died,” Jim says. “Don’t be insensitive. He’s been going through some things.”

“Yeah, but he’s been going to therapy and doing it completely _sober_ , that’s what makes it weird,” Tony argues.

“It’s called a healthy coping mechanism.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Yes, Tony, we are _well_ aware,” Bruce says quickly, hoping to get the conversation back on track. “Anyway. You were saying? Steve has a new roommate? Anyone we know?”

“Nope, never seen him before,” Tony says, shaking his head and taking a bite of his sandwich, spraying crumbs as he speaks. “I think he must be a spring semester start.”

“Tony, the no talking while chewing rule goes for you, too,” Natasha says.

“But you talk while eating all the time,” Clint complains. 

“Yeah, because I don’t get food everywhere when I do it,” Nat says, demonstrating her technique on the cafeteria pizza.

“So, Steve’s new roommate,” Bruce says again, a little louder. “He’s getting assigned a new roommate at the beginning of spring semester? I didn’t think they did that.”

“Maybe he knows the guy already,” Clint suggests with a shrug.

“That could explain why Steve isn’t being his usual frowny self,” Tony agrees, pulling out his phone and poking around at the screen. “Look at this picture I took of the two of them leaving the dorms. Steve’s actually _smiling_. That’s weird.”

“Nat, you know Steve the best out of all of us,” Jim says, leaning over the table to see the slightly blurry picture on Tony’s phone. “Does he look familiar?”

“Hmm, don’t think so,” Natasha says, leaning in to get a better look. “He’s cute, but no, I don’t know him. And I think it’s good that Steve’s smiling again. Grief has its place, but so does healing.”

“When did you turn into a philosophy major?” Tony asks Natasha. He holds his phone out, showing it around the table to everyone. “Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?” 

No one replies in the affirmative.

“You know, you could always _ask_ Steve if you’re so curious,” Clint suggests. “Why _are_ you so curious?”

“Because this new guy shows up and suddenly weird Steve isn’t being all weird and mopey anymore,” Tony says, starting to shove his phone back in his pocket. 

“Hang on, lemme see that picture again,” Natasha says, reaching out over the table.

Tony pulls his phone back out, unlocks it, pulls up the picture from the photo roll, and hands it over to Natasha. Natasha peers closer at the image, turning it, zooming in, and generally scrutinizing it.

“Aha!” Natasha crows. “I figured it out.”

“You recognized him after all?” Bruce asks.

“No, still don’t know who he is,” Natasha replies, “but look at this. They’re holding hands. They’re either really good friends or _really good friends_ , if you know what I mean.”

“Ok, now I’m really curious,” Tony says, taking his phone back again and looking at the picture before putting it back in his pocket. “Who is this guy?”

“Like Clint suggested: ask Steve,” Bruce suggests, tidying up his tray and standing up to leave.

“Too unrealistic, blocked! Both you and Clint” Tony calls after him. “Natasha, you ask him.”

“And what will you give me if I do?” Natasha asked.

“Aren’t you just as curious?”

“Yeah, but if I ask him, _I’m_ getting the answer. That gives no guarantee you’ll find out from me.”

“But that’s not fair!” Tony whines.

“Like everyone else has said, if you’re so curious, ask Steve yourself,” Natasha says, propping both elbows on the table and staring Tony down.

Tony frowns dramatically then suddenly sits back, eyes widening. Natasha turns around.

Steve’s suddenly _there_ , standing a little behind her and Clint, lunch tray in hand. “I heard my name,” he says. “Me or a different Steve?”

“You,” Natasha replies. “Tony has a question.

Tony glares at Natasha for putting him on the spot, but quickly puts on a more neutral face and digs his phone out for a third time.

“Is this you?” Tony asks, holding the phone up. “Wait. No. That’s not right. That _is_ you. You’re in this photo. You have a roommate. Who’s the guy—the roommate? Do you have a roommate? I have so many questions I don’t even know which questions are actually questions and which questions have questions of their own.”

“Whoa, easy there,” Steve laughs. “Yes, I have a roommate, yes that’s my roommate. His name’s Sam. We met in group therapy, and he’s a new student this year.”

“Ok, yes, next question. Are you and Sam _dating_?” Tony presses.

“Yes, in fact we are,” Steve answers. “You want to meet him? He’s just finishing up at the register right now. Do you mind if we join you?”

“Not a problem; we’d love to meet him,” Natasha says, pushing a chair out. “Make yourselves comfortable.”


End file.
